Page 70 of Wish You Were Mine (Kings of Eden Falls #3)

LUCY

It was Monday evening, and I was nestled into the far corner of the student lounge with my marketing study group, a notebook open in my lap. The energy in the room was the usual mix of caffeine and tired ambition, with the faint hum of vending machines near the back wall.

“I’m thinking bold colors and a tagline like Hydrate Harder for my final project , ” Quincy said, tucking her braids behind her ears as she scrolled through mock-ups on her tablet. “That way, it might look like it could sponsor a championship but still be trendy enough for TikTok.”

“I like that,” I said with a smile, trying to stay invested in the conversation despite being distracted with everything from last night. “That would definitely fit in with the vibe of other sports drinks I’ve seen, while also being fresh and new.”

“You think so?” she asked, her brown eyes brightening.

I nodded.

“You could even do a social campaign around athletes who train late at night,” Beckett, another group member, added. “Like ‘Hydrate Harder After Dark.’ Boom. ”

“Okay, Dracula.” Quincy snorted. “But I actually kind of love that.”

The group chuckled, but my attention was soon distracted by the soft buzz of my phone in my lap.

Theo: How’d your chem class go today? Still the same with Owen?

I typed back quickly.

Me: Same as it’s been all month. Why?

Just because Owen had come to my rescue and been included in my parents’ “keep Lucy safe” conversation last night didn’t mean my dad’s opinion of us had magically changed.

As far as I knew, he still expected my only interactions with my chemistry professor to be the occasional eye contact during his lectures and maybe a question or two if I was stuck on an assignment.

Theo: Sorry. I guess I was hoping that after everything last night, something might have shifted.

Yeah…me too.

I was staring at our text thread, trying to figure out what to say when movement from across the way caught my eye.

As if my spiraling thoughts had conjured him up, Owen stepped through the glass doors.

My breath stalled.

Because how many Monday and Wednesday nights had this exact thing happened?

Owen walking into the student lounge just as my study group was winding down…pretending to look busy while waiting to walk me home.

My heart squeezed as I watched him. And I didn’t know whether I wanted him to look my way or not.

Until he did, his eyes finding me immediately. Like he’d been hoping to see me all along.

And when our eyes caught, instead of looking away like he’d done all month, he…smiled.

A real smile. The kind of smile you give a person you’re close to.

One I hadn’t seen since that night everything between us cracked.

And even though I was slightly thrown by his sudden, almost carefree demeanor, my stomach still flipped. I gave him the smallest smile before quickly turning back to my group, pretending like I wasn’t seconds away from unraveling.

Had anyone noticed the flush on my cheeks?

Probably not. Quincy was still flipping through her tablet, Beckett was deep in his notes, and I was doing my best impression of someone who hadn't just made accidental eye contact with the man I hadn’t stopped thinking about for three months straight.

But I could only pretend to focus for so long before my gaze slid back to Owen.

Where was he going tonight?

Dinner in the dining hall? Meeting someone?

He looked...different. Not just physically—though he definitely did. But there was something more relaxed in the way he moved, like the tension he usually carried around his shoulders had temporarily been let go.

Had he changed clothes?

Earlier in class, he'd been in a button-up and slacks. Now, under his light jacket, he wore a fitted black T-shirt and a pair of jeans. The outfit he’d worn the night we first met at The Garden. The shirt I’d once told him he looked amazing in.

Was it the same one?

Why had he changed?

Was he meeting someone? The thought struck me before I could stop it.

Possibly for...a date?

It was around dinner time. Maybe he had a date with someone who worked in this building.

The idea twisted in my chest, and I blinked down at my notebook, the words on the page suddenly blurring together as I tried not to feel sick.

Sure, it had been a month since we ended things, and he probably had already set up said date before everything that happened last night at The Garden. But was he really ready to move on?

Because I certainly wasn’t.

Ever since Theo had told me he’d seen Owen at my meet on Saturday, I’d been holding on to the ridiculous hope that maybe once I graduated, my dad would come around and we could try again.

Once I was no longer Owen’s student or even enrolled at this university, maybe…just maybe…we’d be in the clear to pick up where we’d left off.

Yes, it was probably delusional. But still…I’d hoped.

Was it possible he’d simply gone to my meet because he’d fallen in love with the sport and…I don’t know…just wanted to see what the regional championships looked like?

And the only reason he’d followed me outside at The Garden and saved me from Brody was because it was the “right” thing to do?

I hoped not .

Because I really liked the fairytale idea of my prince being patient enough to wait for me.

But maybe it had been just that. A fantasy. One that I’d told myself to get through the ache.

I forced myself to glance in his direction again, bracing to see him walking toward another woman. But instead of disappearing down the hall or joining someone for dinner, he sat down.

Just twenty feet away. In the seat he used to claim on Monday nights like it belonged to him.

Like he belonged here.

And then, as if he could feel my gaze on him, he looked up again.

Our eyes met.

And this time, the smile he sent me wasn’t just friendly—it was soft. Open.

Hopeful.

My heart thudded, and I tried not to jump to conclusions about why he was here. But if he was here—if he was smiling at me like that—it must mean something had changed, right?

When my study group finally disbanded for the evening, I packed up slower than usual, pretending to fish for a missing pen so no one would notice the way my hands shook. Quincy, Mason, and Beckett waved their goodbyes, and I gave a quick “good luck on your projects” as they filtered out.

But even as I pretended to be focused on packing up my things, my eyes kept flicking toward Owen. Because even though ten minutes had passed since he’d first walked in, he was still here, sitting in the same chair. Like he belonged to the rhythm of my Mondays .

I adjusted the strap of my backpack over my shoulder and walked toward him—each step slow and hesitant, like I was tiptoeing across thin ice.

When I stopped in front of him, I swallowed. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he said, his expression warm as he stood. “Can I talk to you?”

“Um…” I glanced around quickly, suddenly nervous that my dad might have spies watching me before nodding and saying, “Sure.”

The student lounge was dimly lit and relatively deserted at this time of day, but it wasn’t exactly private. And just down that corridor, maybe fifty yards away, was my dad’s office.

I had no idea if he was still working or if any of the administrative staff were lingering late, but I wasn’t about to risk it.

“Let’s just go somewhere else,” I whispered, brushing Owen’s arm as I passed him. “This way.”

I led him into a side hallway, then kept going until we turned into a tucked-away alcove nestled between the campus theater and the faculty lounge.

No one should see us here.

“What did you want to talk about?” I finally turned to him, my heart pounding. “Does it have anything to do with today’s test? Did I completely bomb it?”

“No, nothing like that.” He exhaled like he’d been holding it in for a while. “I just wanted to, uh, touch base after my conversation with your dad this afternoon.”

What? My stomach dropped. “You talked to my dad again? Why?”

A dozen questions raced through my mind at once.

Had my dad stopped by to tell him about the restraining order we were trying to get against Brody? To let him know he didn’t need to keep such a close eye on me anymore ?

Or worse—had this been some kind of warning to back off completely?

“Your dad stopped by my office.” He stepped closer, his eyes locked on mine. “Said he wanted to apologize.”

“Wait—” I blinked, stunned. “My dad wanted to apologize?”

He almost never did that. Only if he really knew he was in the wrong about something.

What did this mean?

Was he rethinking everything he’d said about Owen and me?

Was this…permission? Acceptance?

Would he be okay with us being together now? Or at least in two and a half weeks, when I finally graduated?

“He said he had time to think things through.” Owen gave a faint smile, like he was just as shocked as I was. “That he overreacted. And then he…” He let out a breath, almost like he still couldn’t believe it. “He said he won’t stand in our way if being together is what we really want.”

“What?” My voice came out barely above a whisper. I couldn’t tell if I was breathing. “You’re serious?”

“As serious as I’ve ever been.” He reached for my hands, lacing his fingers with mine.

“After talking in my office, your dad and I went to Dean Harris together and told him everything. About the timeline of how we met and everything that happened after that. He said they’ll still need to talk to you and do an official review to make sure everything was handled ethically—your grades, the lab—but based on what we shared, since we talked to your dad shortly after we became official and then ended things when your dad asked… he thinks we’ll be fine.”

“So…” I blinked. “He won’t keep us apart?”

“No.” A slow smile tugged at Owen’s lips. “He’s not going to fight it. He even invited me to join your family in Texas next week.”

My jaw dropped. “You’re coming to Nationals?”

“Yes.” He laughed softly. “I’ll be there to cheer you on.”

“So…this is real? I’m not dreaming?” My heart swelled, a lightness pushing out the fear that had been wrapped around my chest since last night.

The shadows Brody had left behind disappearing now that I was safe with Owen.

“We won’t be breaking any rules in being together? We won’t have to sneak around anymore?”

“This is really happening.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping, softer now. “If you still want to be with me…” He tucked some hair behind my ear. “Then yes, Lucy. We can be together.”

Emotion surged so fast and so fiercely, it nearly took me under.

His hand slid into my hair, and after making sure I was okay with it, he kissed me—soft and warm and reverent, like he didn’t want to rush it. Like he’d been hoping for this moment just like I had.

I kissed him back, gripping the front of his shirt like if I let go, he’d vanish again.

When we broke apart, we paused, breath mingling. And when I looked into his brown eyes, his expression flickered with something that looked a lot like love.

And with that one look, I knew I wasn’t alone in all the aching and missing and wanting .

He pressed me back gently against the wall, hands anchoring at my waist. “I missed you so much.” He groaned low against my mouth.

“Me too.” I nodded, swallowing. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” His lips found the corner of my mouth, then my jaw. “I hated walking into class and pretending you weren’t everything to me.”

I laughed. “You were so good at pretending.”

“Not really.” His hand found mine and threaded our fingers. “You should’ve seen me after class.”

My eyes suddenly stung with emotion, the idea of him still loving me even when things had seemed hopeless completely undoing me.

I leaned in, kissing him again, slower this time. My arms circled his neck, his slid around my back.

“You have no idea how many nights I’ve dreamed of this,” he murmured, voice low and rough against my neck as his mouth traced a slow path along my jaw and down the column of my throat, lips warm and open, breath hot enough to make my pulse trip. “Needed this.”

“I think I have an idea,” I breathed, more moan than words as my hands slid beneath his shirt, palms flattening over the firm planes of his back. “Since I’ve been dreaming about it, too.”

A groan rumbled from his chest, and my heart pounded so hard I was sure he could feel it. When his lips found mine again—slow, reverent, full of everything we’d been forced to hold back—I melted into him completely.

One of his hands gripped my hip, drawing me closer, while the other slid higher along my spine. The contact pulled a soft whimper from me—so intimate, so familiar, yet still new enough to steal my breath.

We were just getting even more lost in the moment when the sharp slam of a distant door cut through the haze.

We froze, still pressed together, panting. His forehead rested against mine, his thumb tracing absent circles at my hip like he couldn’t bring himself to let go.

“We should probably take this somewhere else,” I whispered with a shaky laugh, brushing my thumb along his jaw. “Don’t need anyone discovering what Professor Park is like behind closed doors.”

His low chuckle vibrated through me, and I saw the moment he came back to his senses. “You’re probably right.” Then, softer, “You hungry?”

“Starving,” I admitted, my heart still thudding against his.

“I was thinking we could go out to dinner.”

I tilted my head. “Like…to a drive-thru?”

“No.” That slow, sure smile curved his mouth—the one that made me want to kiss him all over again. “I was thinking more like a sit-down place with a cozy booth.”

“You want to get dinner in public?”

Could we actually do that now?

“I do.” He grinned, taking my hand in his as he led me back down the hall. “I want to show you off and let everyone know you’re finally mine.”